cheers

On May 21, as they left the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim were fatally shot, and because they were employees of the Israeli Embassy and the suspect was associated with pro-Palestinian politics, the story was reported in the familiar mode of Middle East politics.

The questions that reporters and pundits have been asking are: “Was this antisemitic?” “Was this killing a direct result of Israel’s starving of Palestinians in Gaza?” “Was this another act of pro-Palestinian terrorism?” “Is this the direct result of ‘globalizing the intifada’?” While these are valid questions, they miss a central part of the story.

Only in the eighth paragraph of the New York Times report are we told that the night before the shooting, according to officials, the suspect “had checked a gun with his baggage when he flew from Chicago to the Washington area for a work conference” and, further, that officials said “The gun used in the killings had been purchased legally in Illinois.” (The Los Angeles Times article does not mention these facts.) This tragic shooting, however, is not unique.

In November 2023, a Burlington, Vt., man was arrested and charged with shooting three Palestinian college students without saying a word to them. (He has pleaded not guilty.)

In October 2018, a gunman entered the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh and shot and killed 11 Jews at prayer.

In 2015, three Muslim students were shot and killed by their neighbor in Chapel Hill, N.C.

This brief and very incomplete list of the literally hundreds of thousands of people who have been killed by guns in the U.S. in the last decade does not include the racist mass shootings in Buffalo, N.Y., and at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, S.C.; the mass shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fla.; or the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history, at a music festival in Las Vegas in 2017. This macabre list also leaves out the thousands of people who have been shot and killed by law enforcement.

The elephant in the room — so fundamentally accepted that it largely goes unmentioned — is the deeply ingrained culture of violence in the United States. Gun ownership, police violence and abuse, and mass shootings are symptoms of that culture. However, the militaristic approach to international conflict (from Vietnam to Ukraine) and the disdain for nonviolent solutions are also grounded in this culture, as are the manosphere and the cruelty of predatory capitalism. Now we have a presidential administration that embodies this culture.

Kristi Noem, the secretary of Homeland Security, personifies this ethos of cruelty and violence when she is photographed in front of a cage full of humans in a Salvadoran jail known for torturous treatment of inmates or writing casually about killing her dog. Noem is a key player in the theater of cruelty, but she is not the only one, and the unparalleled star is of course President Trump.

Trump’s policy agenda is based on vengeance. He revels in the theatricality of violence of the world of mixed martial arts, and he signs executive orders that aim to destroy individuals, law firms and universities that have not bent the knee, and the economics of his “Big Beautiful” budget moves money from those in need to those who need for naught.

Now, the president wants a military parade on his birthday that will include tanks, helicopters and soldiers. Although Trump himself evaded the draft, and he reportedly called American soldiers who were killed in war suckers and losers, he likes the strongman aesthetic of an army that is at his beck and call. He exulted in the fact that “we train our boys to be killing machines.”

Although some want to draw a dubious line from pro-Palestinian campus demonstrations to the killings of Lischinsky and Milgrim, the direct line that should be drawn is the one that everyone seems to have agreed to ignore: a culture of violence coupled with the widespread availability and ownership of guns inevitably leads to more death.

The only way we get out of this cycle of violence is by addressing the elephant in the room.

Aryeh Cohen is a rabbi and a professor at American Jewish University in Los Angeles. @irmiklat.bsky.social

I was never a fan of pleasantries because they seemed like a waste of time. Something that two people said to each other before they could say real things to each other. As years go by, more and more of our verbal interaction has taken the form of extended pleasantries. Little, it feels, that people say to each other is real. It’s about how they wish to look, how they can best position themselves, agenda.

That’s one reason I always loved the character of Norm Peterson on the sitcom “Cheers,” played by George Wendt, who has now cashed out his tab at the age of 76 and left this earthly barroom for one where I hope the kegs never run dry.

Norm was universal from the first time he entered the hostelry — as perpetual student and not-very-effective waitress Diane Chambers would have put it.

There was no more artful ingress in the history of American television than any of the many made by Norm, and they were so good, and had so much room for variability, that we got to witness one in every episode of the show.

You know the gag: Norm comes through the door, ready for a cold beer, someone asks him how he’s doing, and he answers.

But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? I’m hesitant to even call the gag a gag, because it’s replete with a quality increasingly rare in our world: authenticity.

Norm doesn’t treat the inquiry — “How’s the world treating you, Norm?” — as perfunctory pleasantry. Which is what we almost always do.

In one episode, his response is, “It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and I’m wearing Milk-Bone underwear.” A query of “What’s shaking?” prompts a reply of “All four cheeks and a couple of chins.”

But in real life, when someone asks us how we are, we say, “Good, and you?” The truth is, we’ve just answered automatically, without a single thought, and we’re unlikely to be listening to whatever answer the other person gives us.

But what an amazing idea it is to ask someone how they are and care about the answer. To be invested in their well-being from the start. To jettison pretense and formality. And how subversive it is to treat another’s tossed-off query as though they cared. Maybe that shifts us all toward paying attention.

Norm always answered truthfully. He gave his interlocutor — and the patrons of the bar who enjoyed his quips — a tart response peppered with wit. But he was also willing to go there. And where’s that? To a place of being humble. Of admitting to struggle.

Now, Norm’s life might not have seemed arduous. He owned a house, had a wife who stood by him although he spent his evenings with the gang at Cheers — often dodging her phone calls. He didn’t work that much when he worked at all.

In a world that’s now rammed with loneliness, it’s easy to watch Norm and think, “I wish I had what that barfly had.” Norm has people. He’s both liked and loved.

Times change. I don’t think you could have a Cheers-type setup in our current iteration of life, but maybe you never could have one without sitcom magic. Shows idealize. But there’s truth and wisdom in both “Cheers” and Norm, without whom Cheers wouldn’t have been Cheers. And we can still wish. We must.

In “Crime and Punishment,” Dostoevsky wrote that everyone needs a somewhere. A somewhere can be a someone. It’s what helps us to be ourselves. Naked and open. Emotionally. Spiritually.

Norm never felt a need to embellish. He owned his struggles — what may have been his depression. His failings. He dished out the bons mots with each entrance like he was a thirsty Pascal who paid for his drinks in pensées, which made him an inspiration.

The gag never became less efficacious. It was the sitcom analogue to Conan Doyle’s “the trick,” the term for when Sherlock Holmes would dazzle Dr. Watson by telling him everything about someone just by looking at their walking stick.

I remember watching Norm when I was 8 and even then thinking he was cool. This wasn’t a star athlete. He could have lived across the street. He blew me away — as he made me laugh — simply by being brave enough to tell the truth about where he was at.

With Norm, the quotidian was never just the quotidian. It’s like in baseball: Everyone says in May that it’s early in the season, it doesn’t matter, but all the games still count as much as any of the other games.

That’s how Norm lived, and we have George Wendt to thank for Norm’s example, because you can’t imagine anyone else in the part. As to the question of how the world was treating Norm, I think the answer lies somewhere in how Norm understood what was important in the world. That’s worth a round on the house.

Colin Fleming is the author, most recently, of “Sam Cooke: Live at the Harlem Square Club, 1963.”

Actor George Wendt, who starred in the beloved Cheers TV series, has passed away at the age of 76, and he has a famous Ted Lasso nephew he’s sadly leaving behind

George Wendt, the legendary actor who has sadly passed away at the age of 76, is related to a major Ted Lasso star.

The actor, who was best known for his role as Norm Peterson in the iconic sitcom Cheers, died peacefully in his sleep at his home, his family confirmed.

A representative told the Hollywood Reporter: “George was a doting family man, a well-loved friend and confidant to all of those lucky enough to have known him. He will be missed forever. The family has requested privacy during this time.”

During his notable career, the American star delighted viewers on Saturday Night Live, portraying Bob Swerski, one of the fervent superfans often seen crowding around Coach Mike Ditka’s diner, passionately rooting for “Da Bears.”

READ MORE: George Wendt dead: Cheers icon’s family pay tribute to Norm Peterson actor

He also boasted an impressive back catalogue of film appearances, gracing screens in Dreamscape (1984), House (1985), Fletch (1985), Gung Ho (1986), Plain Clothes (1987), Never Say Die (1988), Guilty by Suspicion (1991), Forever Young (1992) and the pop culture hit Spice World (1997).

But away from work, George spent time with his doting family, including his wife Bernadette Birkett and their three children: Hilary, Joe, and Daniel. He also leaves behind his nephew, Jason Sudeikis, who plays the lead role in the hugely popular TV series Ted Lasso.

While appearing on an episode of the Still Here Hollywood podcast, George gushed over his pride for his famous nephew. The Cheers star shared: “Proud especially, you know, not only of the success, but he’s solid. Have you read profiles and stuff? I mean he is such a mesh, so smart, so thoughtful. I mean, it all comes out in the show. Right?”

There has even been a touching link between the finale of Ted Lasso and the final episode of Cheers – a homage to the uncle and nephew duo.

During the season three finale of Ted Lasso, bartender Mae straightens a framed photo of Apache leader Geronimo at the Crown & Anchor. The subtle but touching scene was inspired by the ending of Cheers, which saw a similar picture and a small gesture from Sam.

Marked by heartbreaking coincidence, the news of George’s death comes precisely 32 years after the last episode of Cheers graced our television screens. With a run of 275 episodes under his belt, the actor garnered six Primetime Emmy Award nods for his beloved role as the beer-chugging regular, Norm.

On X, formerly Twitter, tributes poured in from fans mourning their favourite TV bar patron, with one writing: “George Wendt, beloved for his role as Norm on Cheers, has died at 77. With a beer in hand and a heart of gold, he made millions feel like regulars. A true legend of TV comfort and comedy.”

Another wrote: “Rest in peace to George Wendt, responsible for Norm Peterson, one of the most iconic sitcom characters of my lifetime. Cheers big guy. Rest easy.”

A third also shared a touching tribute: “RIP George Wendt. You were a big part of my childhood and the impact you had on society was positive and substantial. We are sad to see you go, but know you will be in a better place. Thanks for the laughs.”

NEW YORK — Less than three weeks after his release from an immigration jail, the Palestinian activist Mohsen Mahdawi strode across the graduation stage at Columbia University on Monday morning, savoring a moment the Trump administration had fought to make impossible.

Draped in a keffiyeh, Mahdawi, 34, paused to listen to the swell of cheers from his fellow graduates. Then he joined a vigil just outside Columbia’s gates, raising a photograph of his classmate Mahmoud Khalil, who remains in federal custody.

“It’s very mixed emotions,” Mahdawi told The Associated Press. “The Trump administration wanted to rob me of this opportunity. They wanted me to be in a prison, in prison clothes, to not have education and to not have joy or celebration.”

Mahdawi, a 34-year-old legal resident of the U.S., was detained during an April 14 citizenship interview in Vermont, part of the widening federal crackdown on pro-Palestinian activists.

He was released two weeks later by a judge, who likened the government’s actions to McCarthyist repression. Federal officials have not accused Mahdawi of committing a crime but argued that he and other student activists should be deported for beliefs that may undermine U.S. foreign policy.

For Mahdawi, who earned a bachelor’s degree in philosophy from Columbia’s School of General Studies, the graduation marked a bittersweet return to a university that he says has betrayed him and other students.

“The senior administration is selling the soul of this university to the Trump administration, participating in the destruction and the degradation of our democracy,” Mahdawi said.

He pointed to Columbia’s decision to acquiesce to the Trump administration’s demands — including placing its Middle Eastern studies department under new leadership — as well as its failure to speak out against his and Khalil’s arrest.

He said Columbia’s leadership had denied his pleas for protection prior to his arrest, then ignored his attorney’s request for a letter supporting his release from jail.

A spokesperson for Columbia University did not return an emailed inquiry.

Mahdawi was born in a refugee camp in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and moved to the United States in 2014. At Columbia, he organized campus protests, led a Buddhist association and co-founded the Palestinian Student Union with Khalil.

Khalil would have received his diploma from a Columbia master’s program in international studies later this week. He remains jailed in Louisiana as he awaits a decision from a federal judge about his possible release.

As he prepares for a lengthy legal battle, Mahdawi faces his own uncertain future. He was previously admitted to a master’s degree program at Columbia, where he planned to study “peacekeeping and conflict resolution” in the fall. But he is reconsidering his options after learning this month that he would not receive financial aid.

For now, he said, he would continue to advocate for the Palestinian cause, buoyed by the support he says he has received from the larger Columbia community.

“When I went on the stage, the message was very clear and loud: They are cheering up for the idea of justice, for the idea of peace, for the idea of equality, for the idea of humanity, and nothing will stop us from continuing to do that. Not the Trump administration nor Columbia University,” he said.

The School of General Studies graduation comes two days before Columbia’s university-wide commencement, as colleges across the country are bracing for possible disruptions.

Last week, New York University announced it would withhold the diploma of a student speaker who criticized Israel’s attacks on Palestinians in his graduation speech.

Offenhartz writes for the Associated Press.